


La cinquième heure du jour

by ophelia_hamlet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophelia_hamlet/pseuds/ophelia_hamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For EloiseAtThePlaza who wanted a pregnantlock fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fettuccine_alfreylo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fettuccine_alfreylo/gifts).



> First published on tumblr (calligeniascorner)

Molly wakes up because she’s burning up. She’s not sick and it’s not quite summer. Yet, she cannot stay in bed one more minute. She’s gasping for air and fresh water. Softly, she entangles herself from her lover and the bed sheets and makes her way to the kitchen. It’s still dark and quiet outside, but soon, she’ll see the first lights of the day and hear people leaving their buildings to go to work. She never speaks about it but it’s her favorite time of the day. She fills a glass that looks relatively clean before approaching the window in the living room. The water gives her the relief she needs and her mind wanders again to the outside world.

She likes the quietness of London, the solitude of Baker Street without its cars honking about and the inattentive, fast-walking pedestrians. This is a secret she keeps for herself, a secret she shares with some lucky few who never sleep but always observe. Molly doesn’t have her partner’s gift. She will never be able to tell you what you’ve done yesterday with the surprising accuracy of Sherlock’s skills. She is not capable of retracing the steps of your thoughts by a single look at your demeanor. But it doesn’t mean that Molly cannot see. Behind the window of 221B, she guesses the city’s true self. There is a heart beating beneath the old bones of London. Sometimes young and vibrant, sometimes tranquil and feeling its age. She smiles because Sherlock would roll his eyes at her pathological metaphor. She cannot help herself. Molly knows the human body more than she knows herself. She has held organs and bones and limbs and told their story. She is a storyteller; she restores the truth of a life after it has passed. 

She hugs her body and let her hands descend to her belly. She knows there is a story there. Soon, it will show. It’s not round and overbearing yet. She is only two months gone and her slim figure will probably soften the curves she witnessed in others. Sherlock knows but hasn’t said anything yet. He just looked at her, put his arms around her and lifted her up on the kitchen table and made sweet, sweet love to her. She’s not sure how it came that his experimental chaos usually residing on that same table was peculiarly absent on the day in question but she is grateful for it. She still feels his lips revering her body, forming patterns that only made sense to them. She shivers out of pleasure and she aches from being away from him so she goes back to bed. Slowly, she slips herself between the sheets and lies down beside Sherlock. 

“Is everything alright?”

His eyes are now open and silently assessing her. She smiles at him, her hand caressing his cheek.

“Yes. It is.”

He smiles and let his hand wander to her belly. 

“Good.”

Molly has never felt so happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was supposed to be a one-off but it wouldn't leave me alone until I posted another chapter. It may become a sort of series. Not quite sure yet.

Molly Hooper wasn’t pleased to say the least. Sometime before 4AM, she was woken up by the ring of her mobile phone and Sergeant Donovan kindly invited her to come and bail her partner out of jail. Mrs. Watson would do the same for her husband.

Once at New Scotland Yard, Lestrade explained that they had been caught by the silent alarm of Sir Jameson’s residence in Belgravia. Sherlock had to be taken out quite forcibly by two constables, whilst shouting insults and wild accusations against Sir Jameson about human trafficking. The court case would take place in a few days and Sherlock had better show up. Of course, the housebreaking victim was filling a complaint against both the detective and the doctor.

Mary sat beside her while their respective partner where being processed out of their cell. She held her hand, not saying anything that could upset her. Molly’s belly had finally started showing a few weeks ago and Mary knew better than try and reason with her at such an hour of the day. She silently pitied Sherlock who would probably get more than he bargained for as soon as he was back at Baker Street. She also thought John was a lucky bastard that Scottie was finally doing her nights and therefore permitted Mary to sleep more peacefully than Molly. The baby was at their neighbor Cate Nelson’s, who couldn’t say no to the doctor’s wife.

The whole affair took a bit less than an hour and molly and Sherlock where back at the flat a few minutes after five o’clock. They stepped inside, careful not to wake up their landlady. Molly got out of her coat and tried to look busy in the kitchen, ignoring Sherlock for as long as she could while she was collecting her thoughts.

Sherlock understood very quickly that speaking wasn’t an option. John had strongly hinted at it and Mary’s look of sympathy and pity told him all he needed to know: he was in serious trouble. He did try to apologize as soon as he saw her and kiss her but she wouldn’t look at him or let him touch her. He knew she’d speak when she was ready. Which shouldn’t take much longer… now :

“_ I can’t believe it.”

She began to pace in the living room.

“_ I told you to wait. I told you that the lab results would prove you right if you just waited. You _promised_ you wouldn’t go near him, that you’d stay home and _wait_. You could have been killed. That man is dangerous. He could have shot you both in the head and rightfully claim self-defense. And then what ? I would have my child’s father and his best friend on my slabs, with absolutely nothing to say for themselves. Well ?! You’re still alive, what do you have to say for yourself ?”

She was almost breathless, her eyes fixed on the man in front of her and slightly shaking. He stayed silent and crossed the room to gather her in his arms. It didn’t take long and after a few moment of half-hearted resistance, her tears began to flow and she accepted the embrace. He slowly stroke her hair, still in disarray from her rude awakening. She was getting less tensed and finally leaned with all her weight against Sherlock’s body.

“_ I can’t lose you. Not again. I won’t survive it. You can’t be selfish anymore Sherlock. You can’t always think things will go your way when there is a strong chance they won’t. You’re going to be a father. If you don’t do it for me, do it for the baby. I love you. Please, be careful.”

He rocked her and kissed both her eyes before leading her to the bedroom and making her lay with him on the bed.

“_ I’m sorry. Sergeant Donovan wasn’t supposed to call you or Mary. Mycroft was supposed to bail us out. It was all carefully planned out. MI-5 received intel he was going to leave the country and they needed to slow him down without arousing his suspicions. Breaking in his house and triggering the silent alarm was supposed to create screen smoke so that Sir Jameson would believe that we were desperate for information on his activities. We knew there would be nothing there. But now, he believes he still has the upper hand and that we are nowhere near arresting him. If he disappears, a whole cargo of you woman will be deported out of the country without us knowing anything about its destination. Mycroft is searching for these women as we speak. He’ll find them. Jameson will go to prison and you won’t receive calls in the middle of the night. I promise.”

She sits up and looks at him, furious.

_ That’s your excuse ? “It was all carefully planned out”, “Donovan wasn’t supposed to call you” ? Do you think it reassures me ?  Sherlock, you should have told me about this before I got that bloody call. I was completely frantic. It’s not okay just to go out in the middle of the night, thinking you can tell me about it all later. We are two in this relationship. If you are not able to see that, then maybe we need to reconsider my living with you.

_ I know and I apologize. I do realize that we are together in this. You do count. You are the one who matters the most Molly Hooper and it will never change. I just didn’t have time to explain and I really thought it would be a small matter. I am sorry that I worried you. It really never meant to happen and I will endeavor that it won’t happen ever again. Please stay. I… I cannot imagine my life without you. I can’t wait for the baby to be here. The three of us and an overbearing landlady. Who could want something else in life ?

She chuckles, unable to refrain a laugh. He smiles too before cupping her face and kissing her lips. She kindly responds to the kiss and they escalate in fervor. Soon, their clothes are on the floor and Sherlock covers Molly, mindful not to crush her under his weight but also very attentive to her needs and she cries his name a little before 6am. They lay entangled, Sherlock’s hand caressing Molly’s back.

She kisses his shoulder and says:

_ You’re still in trouble for making me go out before sunrise.

He laughs soflty.

_ You’re the best kind of trouble, Molly Hooper.

He strengthens his embrace, not quite believing his luck and vows to do his best to deserve her.

 

 


End file.
